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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495151">when being a perpetual screw-up actually leads to good consequences</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinlikeitshot/pseuds/robinlikeitshot'>robinlikeitshot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>JayTim Week 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Robin (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bakery, Baker! Jason, Jason Todd is Not Red Hood, JayTimWeek, JayTimWeek2020, M/M, Meet-Cute, Red Robin! Tim, idk - Freeform, slightly crackish</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:08:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,316</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495151</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinlikeitshot/pseuds/robinlikeitshot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>'so i almost crashed my bike in front of his bakery due to major sleep deprivation, dropped fifty on sweetened baked goods, was late to my best-friend's birthday party, but i got the number!'</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake/Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>JayTim Week 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>243</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>JayTimWeek</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>when being a perpetual screw-up actually leads to good consequences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so my first ever jaytim week, and I'm kinda hyped- only found out this was a thing like a week ago tho so i wasn't able to fill all the prompts, but i got like half of them done and I'm pretty excited<br/>. shoutout to dumble-daddy over on tumblr for being a fantastic beta too<br/>Ok, so like, ngl, I actually thought the prompt was bakery au, and i really didn’t want to rewrite it so uh, hope u still like it<br/>Enjoy:)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim is just getting on his bike in the bunker of WE, tired after six straight days of contract negotiations with Lexcorp and a time-sensitive trafficking case that he’d only wrapped up this morning. He's made up his mind to crash at his Perch’s big, comfy bed till patrol when his phone beeps. He frowns, picking it up.</p><p>Instantly his face pales(well, more than it already is) as he reads the text because <i>oh god he forgot about Steph's birthday party</i>. And, while the girl would probably forgive him given his tendency to forget his <i>own</i> birthdays, he's not entirely sure the Dick would be so forgiving if he arrived at his meticulously planned celebration empty-handed.</p><p>Mind whirring, Tim’s panic accelerates along with the bike at the reminder that he only has twenty minutes before he's supposed to be at Steph's apartment in Burnley, which will take him about ten minutes to reach, leaving him with incrementally no time to get a gift. </p><p><i>Think, Drake</i>. He knew Stephanie liked useful things, and that she liked purple. He also knew that due to heavy exposure to his floundering in relation to all things ‘birthday,’ she’d probably be able to tell if he half-assed it, and gave her whatever he could scrounge from his bag. And though he might want to see her expression if he <i>did</i> just hand her the thick stack of documents that need to be reviewed and signed before next Thursday that is currently slapping against his leg from inside their satchel, he didn’t actually want to die, thanks. </p><p>Huffing, he turns his head to grab the bag from where it’s slipped off his shoulder before he can add another problem to the growing stack in his head when his bloodshot eyes catch on the brightly colored storefront of ‘<i>Bluejay’s Bakery</i>’. His distraction almost makes him crash the bike, but training kicks in and Tim rights himself, swerving off the road and braking in front of the bakery, leaving skid marks behind him.</p><p>Thanking his lucky stars (hey, he didn’t even know he had any!), Tim got off, attempting to wrestle his wind-swept hair into a semblance of control before pushing open the glass doors.</p><p>Tim has to fight not to sigh at the rush of warm air as he enters the bakery, at the sweet smell intermixed with the subtle undertones of coffee. The soft jingle of the door alerts the man sitting behind the counter, and he gets up, setting a well-worn book down on the counter as he stands and shooting him an amused grin. </p><p>Tim’s mouth goes dry. He stands rooted to the spot as he takes in the actual perfect specimen of a man standing in front of him. His beautiful teal blue eyes twinkle warmly at him, and Tim’s not entirely sure that eyelashes are scientifically allowed to be that long. And he’s got perfect lips too, pretty and pink and moving- wait. It takes a second, but Tim's brain finally processes that the gorgeous man is saying something to him.</p><p>"-like some coffee?" Ok, Tim was now only eighty percent sure that this wasn't some kind of sleep-deprivation-induced wet dream. A second ticked past, in which Tim realized that he was a) staring like a creep, and b) supposed to answer.</p><p>"Yes, please," he replied, letting his company voice soothe over his stuttering tongue. The man raised an eyebrow.</p><p>"Sure thing." He turned, allowing Tim to ogle at his actually completely unrealistic shoulder to waist ratio and <i>thighs</i> before he disappeared inside a small doorway to where, presumably, the coffee machine resided. </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Jason was just leafing through his notes for Sense and Sensibility for a comparative essay that was due next Friday when a man almost fell off his bike outside of his bakery.</p><p>He stared for a second as the person rights himself, before shrugging and going back to his book. He didn't get many customers around this time, and unless the dude was buying, it wasn’t any of his business.</p><p>Soon enough, though, the little chime Roy had set up in front of the door as a joke started ringing. Jason stood up, and threw an amused look at his wind-swept hair and haggard, though still insanely attractive, face. The kid’s eye bags looked like they had their own suitcases, and Jason watched as he stood in the entrance and let out all the warm air. </p><p>“Hey, you alright there?” Jason asked, but he got no reply. The kid - because there was no way he was older than seventeen at most - just continued staring blankly at him. “Would you like some coffee?” he offered, trying to prompt him into speaking.</p><p>That seemed to do the trick, and it’s almost funny, seeing him jerk as if realizing he’d spaced out. It was kind of cute, to be honest. </p><p>“Yes, please,” he replied, and Jason’s eyebrows shot up at the amount of artificialness in it. He took a second to take in what the kid is wearing underneath the oversized hoodie he’s got on, and his eyes widened at the pressed suit and tie before landing back on his face. </p><p>“Sure thing,” he replied, forcing a smile as he turned around and walked to the kitchen, trying to think. There was something familiar about him, but Jason had dismissed it until- he stopped in his tracks. He’d turned the news on last night, something or the other about a scandal with Wayne Enterprises- he hadn’t been paying much attention, but the man at the podium smiling prettily while speaking to the crowd of reporters had stuck.</p><p>Tim Drake. While the man looked a bit more put together, he’s a dead ringer for the kid looking like he’s going to pass out in his bakery. Tim Drake is in <i>his</i> bakery.</p><p>Jason quickly turns to the counter, pressing the correct buttons on the machine for it to spit out its brew. The kid hadn’t told him what he wanted, so he’d just make it black and hope for the best. </p><p>Tapping his foot, he shot glances to the open door, where the kid had sat down on one of the dine-in chairs and was falling asleep on the table, till the coffee was finally done and he’d capped it. </p><p>The kid didn’t make any movements as Jason strode over to him. He did react when he set the coffee in front of him though, picking it up and downing it in one go. Jason tried not to stare. </p><p>He watched as the kid blinked a couple of times as if he was rebooting before he turned to look at him. “Uhm. Thanks.” It’s almost a stammer, and there’s definitely a blush brushing his cheeks. </p><p>Jason grins. “No problem. Now why don’t you tell me what you’re doing in a bakery two blocks off of Crime Alley when you have people on your payroll to do whatever you want at the lift of a finger, Mr. Drake?”</p><p>He sees the boy’s eyes sharpen, the light blue turning glacial before softening again. “It’s just Tim. And, this is more of a, ah, last-minute thing. I was just leaving work when I remembered.” The kid’s eyes widened, as if he hadn’t intended to be that honest. </p><p>“Remember what?” he asked, curious as to what could make a billionaire pop down to his modest little shop for a coffee.</p><p>“I’d rather not tell you.”</p><p>“Oh? Delicate company secrets?” he teased.</p><p>“No, uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s a little embarrassing. I might have forgotten it was my friend’s birthday, and I needed to pick up something for her party tonight,” he admitted. </p><p>“Well,” he leaned back, considering. “What does your friend like?” he asked, wondering who exactly Tim Drake-Wayne was friends with that he’d be all the way down in Burnley to pick up a present.</p><p>“Purple,” he replied immediately. Then added, “And waffles.”</p><p>Purple and waffles. There’s not any famous people Jason can think of with any association to either of those two things, but he does have a batch of cupcakes he’d been experimenting with earlier that would fit the boy’s description exactly.</p><p>“I’ve got the perfect thing,” he promised. Going over to the cupcakes display, his eyes roved over the perfectly crafted cakes till they landed on the right one. It was one of his more outlandish designs, a mound of purple frosting covered with sprinkles on top of a waffle cone style cupcake filled with his specialty blackberry jam. It was honestly a bit garish, but he set it in front of the boy for the verdict.</p><p>“That looks horrendous.” His heart sank a bit. “She’ll love it, Mr...” He smiled. </p><p>“Jason. Would you like to do a taste test before your purchase?” he asked, dropping into his business voice as he pulled out one of the plastic spoons he kept behind the counter.</p><p>“I’d love to,” Tim answered, taking the spoon from his hand. Jason tried not to think about the sparks along his fingers from where they brushed, reminding himself that this is literally the Timothy Drake-Wayne and he’s just a baker from a random corner store near the Alley, as Tim takes a bite of the cupcake. </p><p>He honest to goodness <i>moans</i>, making Jason freeze like a deer in headlights as the boy licks his sticky fingers. “This is really good!” he exclaims, before giving Jason a considering look. Jason feels an odd urge to lick the icing off his lips. </p><p>Tim seems to guess what he’s thinking, because he turns back to the cake, blush deepening. “You’re really good,” he mutters, and Jason’s barely able to catch it and now he’s pretty sure <i>he’s</i> the one blushing and this is getting honestly ridiculous. </p><p>“How many would you like to purchase, Tim?” he asked, moving behind the counter. </p><p>“Two dozen, please.”</p><p>Jason nodded, before moving back to the kitchen to the big industrial freezer. After packing them up, he took them outside where Tim had finished his cupcake and was now staring intently at the remains. There’s still a bit of frosting on his cheek.</p><p>“That’ll be $46.89,” he said, setting the box down on the counter and typing in the order in the register. Tim got up and pulled out his wallet, handing over his credit card. When Jason looked up again, the boy's blush was dark enough to rival the smear of frosting that Jason really, <i>really</i> wants to lick off. </p><p>"Listen, I don't uh, normally do this, but like, this is literally the best thing I have tasted in two weeks." Jason raised his brow as the kid started talking faster, waving his arms about as if to emphasize his point. "Also, you're like really pretty." Ok, what. Jason could count on one hand the number of people who had called him <i>pretty</i>(zero), and none of them were the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company. </p><p>“Would you like to go out sometime?”</p><p>There has to be an explanation for this, Jason thinks as he stares at the kid standing hopefully in front of him. But he couldn't find any for why Tim Drake was asking him out while standing in the middle of his tiny bakery in a suit that was worth more than his rent for a month tripled. </p><p>Tim seems to take his silence as a rejection as his face immediately falls. "You don't have to! I'm probably bothering you, I know it's late, sorry, I'll just-" he picked the box up, not making eye-contact.</p><p>"I'd like to." He put the box back down.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I said, I'd like to. Go out with you, that is." Because even though Jason was pretty sure the kid was probably under the influence of severe sleep-deprivation, he's still one of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen, mussed up hair and blood-shot eyes aside. </p><p>“Uhm. Okay,” he breathed, eyes wide and a cute little smile on his face. “Thanks.”</p><p>Jason fought the urge to chuckle at his surprise. Honestly, he should be thanking <i>him</i>. “Here’s my number,” he said, handing over his receipt with Jason’s neat handwriting scrawled across the back. </p><p>Tim takes the paper, carefully folding it up before sticking it into his pocket. “I’ll text you?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah. I should probably get going, I think I’m late.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jason cleared his throat, wishing he could clear the awkwardness that had descended on the room. “See you.”</p><p>Tim picked up the box, giving him a bright smile, slowly backing away from the counter. “Bye, Jason!” </p><p>Jason couldn’t help but smile back. “Bye, Tim.”</p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Tim dodged Dick as he walked dazedly into the party, trying to avoid the inevitable lecture. Sticking to the edges of the apartment, Tim stretched up on his tiptoes to try and catch a glimpse of the blond-</p><p>“Hey, Timmy!” Came Steph’s exuberant voice over his shoulder.</p><p>Yelping, he spun around, only to be tackled by the purple-clad birthday girl. He hugged her back, grinning at the excitement pouring off her.</p><p>“Hey, Steph. Happy birthday,” he said, well, shouted to try and be heard over the sounds of Dick’s frankly awful mix of modern pop and 40s hits. </p><p>After releasing him, she leaned back, squinting. “Why were you so late?”</p><p>There was no way Tim was telling her that he forgot, but other sacrifices had to be made. He held up the receipt, which she snatched out of his hand. He had half a mind to snatch it back, because oh my god, <i>he gave him his number</i>.</p><p>Her brows furrowed in confusion. “You got me cupcakes? What-”</p><p>“Turn it around.”</p><p>She turned it around, and her mouth fell open. She looked up at him with something akin to pride in her eyes. “You got the number?” she whispered tearfully.</p><p>“I got the number,” he affirmed, before promptly passing out.</p><p>THE END</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>kudos and comments are always welcome and appreciated:)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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